Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls
by Relicssk
Summary: (Reuploaded) Rated M because of language. ONESHOT/Human AU! Alice Kirkland just couldn't relax and draw for once, could she. No, of course not. Well, if the model didn't stop winking at her, she would start f**king some sh*t up. Specifically, his (rather perfect) arse. Fem!England x America


It was supposed to be a normal drawing session. She was hoping to just relax and just be able to focus drawing on paper with her charcoal and hands. Alice had especially searched out an open studio an hour away from where she lived, ensuring she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. Barely five minutes as she was just getting into the groove of scraping charcoal into familiar shapes, she looked up to get a better glance at the model who she had ignored as she had been warming up. And, damn it all, but he was fucking hot. Of course, it was bad to judge anyone based off their appearance, true worth came from the inside, Alice was being a shallow-ass hormonal twit, blah, blah, blah. The man was the most gorgeous human specimen she had seen. It wasn't just the lighting that cast the most delicious shadows on his cheekbones and his collarbones. His body...all those muscles drawn taut...she could feel her cheeks heating ever so slightly. _Beep beep._ Five whole minutes had gone by, and as he changed position she saw his face and what a glorious sight. Was she drooling?

She had always been a sucker for blue eyes, but the model's was just insane. A smirk seemed to slip out onto his face before it straightened back out when he saw her staring at him. Immediately, she turned away and coughed, pretending to be overly occupied in her neighbor's drawing, which was a rather exaggerated and disturbingly detailed caricature of the model's dick. _Oh, for fuck's sake!_ Alice grumbled in her mind. Running her eyes over the crowd, she saw an overwhelming majority of women in the room who were very obviously not drawing. Some of them even had their phones out. She was impressed besides herself, because this particular group of women were all middle-aged and over. And kind of annoyed. Narrowing her eyes, she stubbornly started drawing, despite wanting to stare at him for ages on end. Even though she could feel her heart and that weak part of her mind blowing fireworks at the sight of the model, she refused, absolutely refused to lose her fucking head like a fucking high-schooler just because of a fucking-"We'll take break now!" The art instructor barked, already half-way out of the door of the studio. A burble of chatter started, and people started draining out for the bathroom. She herself stood up to go. A tap on her shoulder jolted a small shriek out of her mouth. "Howdy. I was just wonderin' what your name was." Alice slowly turned around. It was the goddamned model. "Ah, yes. My name is Alice Kirkland. And yours?" A wide, brilliant smile spread across his face. "I'm Alfred F. Jones from the humble state of Texas. You from across the pond?" He drawled, sending invisible shivers down her spine. "Straight from London, England, at your service." Alice replied with a slight tip of her head. Alfred smiled even wider, if that was even possible. "Of course. How's your stay in the States been, Alice?" "It's been perfectly lovely, Mr. Jones. I'm terribly sorry, but I have to go to the loo, so, if you please?" His eyebrows raised a little, then he did a little theatric bow. "See ya." Alfred smirked, at which point she had started for the door as fast as her dignity allowed.

* * *

As she nearly slammed the door on her way out of the door with a fairly audible curse, Alfred kept on smiling absentmindedly and stared at the ceiling, thinking to himself, _What was up with her? She looked like I had personally murdered her cat. It was kinda cute though. She was really cute. Her eyes were the damn prettiest thing in the entire room._ His black bathrobe swished as he walked over to Alice's vacated seat. Her drawing pad was the only one with a complete drawing of him, even though it was fucking weird looking at it. Not that it was bad, far from it. It was really good, albeit it looked like she was attacking the paper when drawing it. He intended on keeping the whole art modeling gig a temporary one (even though he had been doing it for four months by then) and seeing his naked body drawn by a stranger threw him for a loop. As he absentmindedly walked around the room, he saw a vaguely male body with a huge dick, which he cringed at, and other drawings of him at varying degrees of skill. Alice seemed to be the best sketcher in the entire room, despite her age. Man, he was getting more and more interested in Alice, even though they had barely talked for ten seconds. It was probably her eyes. It was definitely her eyes. And her soft mouth. And the hot-as-hell British accent that made him all worked up. Thank god his bathrobe was loose enough so that she didn't notice anything. Or was it the other way around? Strangely enough, he wanted as much of her attention as he could get, for this short amount of time at least. People were starting to come back in from the break, and he retreated back to the makeshift stage in the middle of the room, his eyes looking hungrily for Alice and her freaky witch eyes to come back through the door.

* * *

While in the bathroom, Alice had furiously been splashing her face with cold water in an effort to calm down her thudding pulse. It had been quite a while since she had been so physically attracted to a person, but he was a model. It was kind of his job, so she would just bite her tongue and not make a fool of herself. Bloody hell, Alice was a strong, confident woman who could freely express herself. She could handle a few hours with a hot dude, damn it all to hell. Alice scolded herself. Straightening the collar of her blouse, she headed out the door. On her return to the studio, Alice kept her head down, peeking out from behind her easel to find Alfred staring right at her. _I want to touch him. Wait, no. Stop it!_ Shaking her head and narrowing her eyes, she steadfastly stared at her paper. Her eyes kept on straying back to him, and at one point the git actually winked at her. His poses, three minutes at a time, were getting increasingly sensual. And always, always facing her, one way or another. Alice was about to go mad with what she suspected was pent up sexual frustration. Well, if he played that way, that meant he wanted some kind of reaction from her that she was not about to give. She didn't know really know how to mess with his head, much to her annoyance. She didn't know if he found her attractive, although it was pitifully obvious she was to him. Eyes narrowed, Alice glared at Alfred, wishing with all her heart for him to just turn around so she didn't have to see his stupid handsome face and his eyes twinkling at her. By the time the drawing session had officially ended, Alice was turned on, irritated, and full of the desire to kick Alfred right in his prominent testicles. She waited until everyone had left the drawing studio before finally leaving, just to avoid running into the model who had left along with the rest of them (much to her disappointment, in spite of herself).

She left the room with a tired sigh. As Alice turned the corner down the hallway to the exit, she saw Alfred leaning against the wall. "You sure took your sweet time, darlin'." Alice stared at him. "Mr. Jones, firstly, my name is Alice Kirkland. It's a rather nice name. Feel free to use it. Secondly, you were under no obligation to wait for me, so I took no one's time. What are you still doing here?" "Nothing, it was just that your phone-" Alfred sauntered over to her, "is very sadly missing my number." Arching an eyebrow at him, she grinned lopsidedly at him. "Unfortunately, you're going to need to try harder than that, yankee." Alice stood on her tippy toes and whispered into his ear, "You were a horrid tease, Mr. Jones." Alice traced his jawline with one finger, then kissed the side of his mouth very quickly on a sudden impulse of hers. " Then, she side-stepped Alfred and slipped out of the exit.

* * *

Alfred stood stock-still for a few seconds before running out after her. In the yellow glow of the streetlights, Alfred scanned his periphery before spotting and going towards the small blonde, who was at a bus stop. Jogging towards her, he tapped Alice on the shoulder. When she turned around, he bent his head and kissed her square on the mouth. Hard. Grinning, he pulled back and whispered back into her ear. "Your move, Ms. Kirkland." He pressed a piece of paper into her hand, and then got into his car that was parked nearby by the sideway. As he drove away, he thought about how her lips tasted ever so slightly like mint, and how soft they were. Alfred dreamt of emeralds that night.

* * *

After Alice got onto the bus, she unfolded the piece of paper Alfred had given to her, and quietly mouthed the numbers with a small smile. _My move, huh?_

* * *

Author's note: This might be trash. I don't know. I'm tired, my butt hurts, and I haven't written fanfiction in ages. I deleted all my previous stories...I'm slowly warming up to return to this fandom. I hope you guys enjoy!


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